


Amateur

by boxofhatebrains



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop Compliant, Post-War, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27784561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofhatebrains/pseuds/boxofhatebrains
Summary: Duo hopes to reconnect with Heero after the wars.
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	1. Part 1

“Hey”, I say into the pay phone, holding the phone with my shoulder as I fiddled with my backpack.  
  
“Duo”, he replies, apparently unsurprised.  
  
“Hey, buddy. How are things?”  
  
“Fine. Why are you calling?”  
  
I sigh. That’s him, that’s Heero. No bullshit, no small talk, he just gets right to the point. I can’t help but smile against the cold plastic of the phone.  
  
“I just got into town and I’m going to have some free time soon”, I explain.  
  
There’s silence, like he’s trying to piece it together. He doesn’t get it. What a social nerd.  
  
“So”, I continue after a moment, “I wanted to see if you had some free time. You know, to hang out, get drunk, talk about the war like old folks. Things like that.”  
  
There’s a tense silence like he doesn’t really want to say yes, but a part of him wants to. So, he’s debating it over. Cutting my offer up, lying down in front of him, and weighing it. What can he get out of it? When could there be time? Does he really want to see me? He’s thinking all this.  
  
I interject again, “Hey, how about I get checked in and all that, then I’ll bring you dinner. You gotta eat and so do I. Then we’ll go from there. Sound good?”  
  
After the briefest pause, he answers, “Sure.”  
  
I get the address where he’s at and tell him I’ll be there in forty. As I hang up, I can’t help but feel this swell of joy. It’s been a year since the war, since the last time I had seen him. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed his directness. In a world of lies and bullshit, he never played that way. If he had a problem with you, you’d know it. No fat on his words, just the meat. You didn’t get flowery explanations, you got the short truth. I respect that, hell, I admire it. I could always count on him. If he said that he could get a copy of the new OZ weapons blueprints, take out every soldier in the complex, have a cat nap, and still have time to grab some fast food in under ten minutes, I’d believe him. I’ve missed that. Surrounded by the excuses and “that’s not my job” attitudes I’ve worked with, I’ve yearned that honesty.  
  
My hotel is a shit-hole, but it’s cheap and has running water, so I’m set. I’m not planning on spending a lot of time in it, any way. I want to explore the city. I want to see the people. I like the freedom and the open air.   
  
I take a quick shower, the crotch-pits-ass type. I throw on some clothes, grab my camera, and I’m off. I grab something from a mom-and-pop and wonder if Heero’s tastes had changed. It wouldn’t make a difference, though. Whatever I bring him, he’ll eat it.   
  
I consider trying to walk, but I don’t have the time. Taxi it is.  
  
On the way, I watch the people and buildings outside my window. The heavy smell of bodies clings to the air. I don’t mind it. The “people” smell is almost comforting. It reminds me of Howard’s ship. The natural smell of living, working humans all around me. Much better than the smell of charred bodies, of diseased bodies...  
  
I’m there suddenly. Thrusting my hand into my deep pocket, I search for my wallet as the driver impatiently waits. I give the money and an apologetic grin. I get a grunt in response. His eyes give a pointed look towards the door. Nice meeting you, too, buddy.  
  
The place is an apartment complex and I’m taken aback slightly. I study it as I hear the taxi scurry off. The six story building isn’t dirty or anything, but not the richest. Let’s just say that Relena wouldn’t live in it and that’s the whole point. So, Heero was living alone? It didn’t make sense and at the same time it did. I had expected the fairy-book ending; the knight gets the princess. They seemed like they were soul mates. It felt so destined for Relena and Heero to be together. I’m a little disappointed and disheartened. I had thought if it would be one of us to have the ‘happily ever after’, it’d be them. God knows it wasn’t me and it wasn’t Quatre. I lose a little faith as I stand here on the street looking up at the towering building. I just wanted so bad for one of us to be happy and to have the perfect ending.  
  
But there is no such thing as perfection and none of us will ever have a “normal” life.  
  
I take it in like a big boy and rush towards the door. Life goes on. That’s one of the only “life lessons” that have actually made it to my brain. Life goes on. People will die, be hurt, be corrupted, etc., but life keeps going. Then, one day, you’ll die. It’s not optimistic, it’s not really pessimistic. It’s fact.  
  
I take the stairs. It feels good to feel the burn in my calves as I take the stairs two at a time. I haven’t really worked out since the end of the war, the second one, that is. Mariemeia’s war. I just haven’t found the time or had the initiative to do it.   
  
There’s a small waver of nervousness as I reach his door. He and I, we don’t have all that much in common. We don’t contact each other that much. We’ve never had a “heart to heart”. Hell, I don’t know a thing about his past, except he was trained by an assassin when he was younger. There is absolutely nothing between us except for a bloody war that forced us boys into manhood. I trust him with my life, but I don’t know if I can with my problems. I want to, I do. I want to like him and have things to talk about for hours. Maybe this is why I came here for my vacation. I need a friend...and I think he does, too.  
  
The door opens as I think outside of it and there he is. Messy brown hair and harsh blue eyes; he’s probably changed after a year, but I can’t tell. Maybe he can’t tell if I’ve changed either.  
  
I smile. He doesn’t.   
  
“Hope you like chicken still”, I greet him, holding up the paperbag.  
  
“That’s fine”, he replies, but just stands there awkwardly.  
  
“Can I come in?” I gently hint.  
  
He’s still giving me a glance-over, probably checking for weapons. His eyes stop at the bag.  
  
“It’s not a bomb”, I joke, “You know mine were always smaller than this.”  
  
“Yeah”, he agrees and steps to the side so I can pass.  
  
I chuckle to myself as I move past him. His apartment is small, tight, and unimpressive. It’s white and bare. All the necessities and little else. I’m shocked to even find a couch.   
  
He gets out plates and glasses. It doesn’t take me long to look over the apartment and then back to him. The silence is questioning and shy. I fill it like I always do.  
  
“It’s nice to get away for a little while. Business has been pretty busy for a while, but working forty-eight hours a week is easier than trying to complete a fifteen hour mission on two hours of sleep and a paper to do on chemistry due the next day.”  
  
I laugh to myself.  
  
He hands me the plate. Our fingers touch. It’s nothing. It’s fine. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it, except that he froze. For just a few seconds, he pauses, then lets go. As simple as that. No one else would have paid attention to it, and I’m not sure why, but it stuck to me. It meant something. It had to, this was Heero and he didn’t screw around. Something was up, but I ignored it.  
  
We eat our dinner as I chat. I’m no stranger to it. I talk to myself all the time at work, just noise eating up the silence. I don’t like a lot of silence. It’s kind of silly, but sometimes it scares me. I’ll wake up at night and everything will be so still and I’ll wonder if I’m on L2, surrounded by the bodies of the dead. Sometimes that would happen. You’d go to sleep next to someone and the next morning, they had died from the L2 plague. It could be so sudden like that and so quiet. Like Death had snuck in, the thief he was, and carried the life they had away. Silence meant death.   
  
It’s not like I’m scared of it now, as Heero’s eating his drumstick. I’m fine now. I’m just a little nervous and tired. I want him to bite all the baits I’m dangling in front of him. I leave open-ended statements, daring him to jump in. He doesn’t.  
  
I get bold and ask, “How’s Relena?”  
  
“Fine. She’s been working in the community here a lot lately, so we haven’t traveled much”, he answers without a flinch or waver.  
  
I try again, “Does she live close by?”  
  
“Somewhat. It’s a thirty-minute drive.”  
  
This is getting me nowhere, so I decide to be brave. I’ll open a little for him.  
  
“Hilde’s doing good from what I hear, but I haven’t seen her in a while. She lives about five hours away from my place.”  
  
He just nods, so I continue, hoping that I’m getting through.  
  
“We...well, it may be obvious, but we broke up. She’s still a great friend, but...”  
  
He glances up from washing his plate with curiosity. I add that as a victory. I made Heero Yuy curious about my life.  
  
“But”, I add, with a candid, sullen sigh, “we just couldn’t work through our problems. We just weren’t good together like that.”  
  
I lean back and let my smile drop because it does hurt. I know that I’m the one who brought it up, but now I’m starting to regret it.  
  
“Yeah”, he replies in this soft voice. Soft and fragile. Soft and human. I know that less than a handful of people have probably heard that voice.   
  
We look at each other and there’s understanding. We have our first connection, loss and regret. Maybe there’s hope for us yet. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I don’t want him to disappoint me. I don’t want to imagine something that’s not there if it isn’t there.  
  
“Where are you staying?” he asks suddenly, his eyes on the water and plate again.  
  
“The Golden Sparrow.”  
  
He hesitates before he says, “That place isn’t any good. You can stay here if you want.”  
  
_I’ll be damned..._  
  
“Sure”, I accept before I think about it.  
  
Then I smirk wryly and joke, “It’ll remind me of our ‘schoolboy’ days.”  
  
He doesn’t say anything.

TBC.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some honesty reveals itself...

  
I’m unpacking the little that I brought. Heero’s watching me as I pull out the pants and shirts. There’s something I can’t place, something different about him. Something subtle.  
  
“I’ll be at work until 1800.”  
  
“Okay”, I say over my shoulder, “I’m going to look around town. We can go out when you get back.”  
  
He looks skeptical, but doesn’t voice it.  
  
He leaves without another word and I continue to unpack my things and place them at the other side of the couch. My stuff in his place. It feels intimate, like we’re roommates. It’s sad to think that I’m one of his best friends, if not his best. I could be wrong since it’s been a year, but I don’t think I'm wrong. It seems like there’s no evidence of anyone in Heero’s life, not even himself.   
  
I look around the barren room and the blank, white walls. I smile to myself, as mischievous as an imp’s sneer. _I have an idea._   
  
You _are_ going to have some one make an impression on your life, Heero.  
  
I get ready to go out...

***  
  
When he gets back, it’s late. I’ve ordered him Chinese and it’s already cold in the fridge. However, he notices it right away and his death-glare to set from ‘stun’ to ‘kill’ in an instant. I smile, nonchalantly.  
  
“Why did you put that up?”  
  
I gesture to the teeny-weeny, small, poster-sized art print that I nailed to his plain, white wall, “That?”  
  
He nods and waits for my reason.  
  
“I thought it looked cool.”  
  
He seems to be waiting for a longer explanation, but all I offer is a shrug. At that, he walks to it and takes it off the wall and starts to pull out the nail.  
  
“Woah, woah”, I exclaim and jump to my feet, “Hey, I know that it’s not your type of thing. But think of it as a gift. Think of it as you having a small piece of me around. I _want_ you to keep it up. I want to leave behind something with you. And at the very least, just think of it like I’ll come back for it and you’re just holding it for me.”  
  
He studies me for a good while, then looks up at the picture. It caught my eye when I was looking for something. It’s one of those prints of skeletons that people drew at the time of the plague. I thought it’d be ironic, and symbolic. I was literally handing Heero a piece of my past, a piece of my heart, and he didn’t even realize it. He probably made the association of death and me being Death during the war, and that was enough for now.  
  
Carefully and slowly, he steps away from the wall and we both study it for some time.  
  
I break the silence, “You’ve had a long day and some tasty egg rolls have been patiently waiting to meet your stomach. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll heat it up.”  
  
With a swift nod, he does what I suggested. And as I’m spooning rice onto the plate, my mind wanders. I become aware that I’m lonely and, admittedly, a little desperate. I came here because I’m having a hard time connecting with anyone and needed a break from the life I’ve stumbled into. I want Heero to understand me and to feel the same restlessness, and at the same time, I don’t. I want Heero to be happy and successful, giving me hope that I can, too. I don’t need to be a slave to adrenaline like Wufei, or trapped in a job I never asked for like Quatre, or wander around through life like Trowa. I want to be rooted. Probably.  
  
“Hey, Heero”, I call out.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“What are you doing now with your life?” I ask with all my devil-may-care bravado I’ve stored up for the past month.  
  
He thinks a minute before answering simply, “I’m living.”  
  
I sigh and go for round two, “I mean, what are you doing? What do you do for a job? Do you like it? Stuff like that.”  
  
“You know that I work for Relena as Security Operator and sometimes I’ll assist the Preventers.”  
  
“I didn’t know if you were still working for her”, I say quietly, “Do you like it?”  
  
“She’s always going to be a part of my life.”  
  
“I know that. I’m glad. I’m just wondering-”  
  
“We just weren’t good together like that”, he says with a matter-of-fact tone and an odd look.  
  
It takes me a second before I realize that I said something quite like that about Hilde. A wry smile comes to my lips.  
  
“Looks like I’m not the only one.”  
  
“Why are you here?” he went a bit below the belt, especially with his tone. It was sharp and almost accusing, like we were arguing with questions.  
  
“Vacation”, I replied, being as vague as he had been.  
  
“Yeah?”, he snaps back, “Why?”  
  
“I just needed to get away for a while.”  
  
“Why here? Why me?”  
  
Good one. Heero scores two points.  
  
“We got along during the war-”   
  
“Not really”, he quickly, painfully, replies, “We tolerated each other. We fought together and we bled together, but we did not have a close relationship. Did you think we did?”  
  
Ouch. I think I know who’s going to win the game and take home the cup.  
  
“You could have fooled me," my voices raises a little, as I argue back.  
  
“I guess you _were_ fooled.”  
  
“Wow, are you always this bitchy after work or am I just lucky?”  
  
“Duo, you call me, showing up out of the blue like we’re good friends, come here and act like we do this every week. We don’t. I haven’t talk to you in six months. And when I do talk to you all you do is chatter on about nothing and joke about our lives. So, answer the question, why are you here?”  
  
There’s a hot, thick silence between us and then a long chirp from the microwave. I take out his food, its heat stings my hands.  
  
“If I didn’t know I wasn’t welcomed”, I spit out, “I wouldn’t have bothered.”  
  
I throw the plate against the wall, its pieces shattering and the rice slumps to the floor.  
  
“Enjoy your dinner”, I calmly say and walk out of his apartment. I’m so pissed and disgusted at myself. What was I thinking? _Why am I here?_ I was so stupid to think that we could get along after the war. I’m so pissed at myself.  
  
I walk and keep walking. I watch the ground race under my feet. I kick stones out of my way and trample on leaves. I want to destroy something, I want Deathscythe back. I want OZ back. I want my friends back...  
  
I’m so tired of being alone and not fitting into the world I helped create. I’m not fitting into the life that was just a pipe-dream during the war. No one thought they’d survive, and here we all are, fucked up and alone. It pisses me off. The whole thing pisses me off.   
  
But life goes on.  
  
He doesn’t try to find me or anything, and when I get back, the door’s locked. He didn’t chain it, so that must have meant that he was expecting me back. I pick the locks easily and come in. The lights are off and his door is shut. So, that’s that. End of the conversation, I guess.  
  
I crash on the couch and lie there for a long time just thinking. The next thing I know, I’m dreaming.  
  
When I wake up, he’s already gone to work. No notes, no signs, no “get the hell out”, just nothing. I’m not sure what to make of that.  
  
The rest of the day, I walk around town, just observing and soaking it all in. It’s a calm little city, the type with parks and fountains. People on the street say “hi” to me. It’s nice, but a little unnerving. I’m all about being cordial, but the city I live in, you have to watch your back. No one goes around saying “hi” for no reason. But I like it.  
  
When I get back at six, he’s still not there. I call for pizza and lie on the couch waiting for it. The skeletons on the wall smile at me, full of deadly intentions. I’ve never been afraid of dying, but I’ve been afraid of losing. It’s to the point that losing more people seems natural to me. I’m sad, but I just keep moving forward. I gotta keep moving. I don’t want to ever look back.  
  
The door rustles and a key is turned in its lock. I take a breath and mentally prepare myself. If we’re going to fight, I want to be ready.   
  
Heero comes in, his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat and the top buttons on his shirt are unbuttoned. Looks like a rough day at the office.  
  
Our eyes lock and he stops, he looks like he was expecting me, but doesn’t know what to say. He sighs lightly.  
  
“I’ll leave," I say.  
  
He shakes his head and gruffly replies, “Don’t bother.”  
  
“You were kinda right," I say as he takes off his shoes slowly, “I don’t really have a right to be here.”  
  
“I know I’m right," he says without arrogance or contempt, “But I don’t want to fight today.”  
  
“I want to get to know you," I push on.  
  
“I thought you took off. You do that.”  
  
We’re going on two conversations but I stick to mine, “I want to be your friend.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I don’t have many," I admit and bite the inside of my lip.  
  
“Bullshit," he replies in a exhausted voice.  
  
That just pushes the wrong buttons.  
  
“It’s true.".”  
  
“I find it hard to believe.”  
  
“Why?” I ask, getting defensive.   
  
“Because you’re popular with people.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean anything. They’re what people call ‘fair-weather’ friends. They’re there when it’s convenient for them.”  
  
“I said I didn’t want to fight," he grits out in a very final tone, but I’m not done.  
  
“I like people and they like me, too, but there’s a lot that they can’t understand about my life and there’s a lot that they don’t like about my life. I can’t blame them, but I compare myself to them. There are so many things that I’ve done and seen, bad things, and when it gets to that, they bail. I don’t blame them because they’re afraid and it makes them face a lot of realities they didn’t want to, but it alienates me from them. I'm...nothing like them.”  
  
He sits down in a chair and thinks.  
  
The buzzer rings then; it’s the pizza guy.  
  
We say nothing as we eat our pizza.   
  
Afterwards, when he’s cleaning off his plate and I'm sitting at his small kitchen table, he says, “I have never felt a connection to people.”  
  
It’s so out of the blue, but I toss it around in my mind.  
  
“I know, Heero. I can tell.”  
  
“I don’t know how to go about things, how to say them. So I just say it.”  
  
“I know. I like that about you.”  
  
It must have surprised him because he looks up at me and quirks an eyebrow. I laugh.  
  
“How do you do that?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I can’t do that with my eyebrow”, I say and point to it.  
  
He shrugs and replies, “I just always could.”  
  
“Well, the bending metal bars, setting your own leg, and coming back to life was nothing compared to this," I tease, “This is real talent. It’s not fair. The chicks must really dig you.”  
  
Then there it is, a ginger smile at his lips and my stomach goes all weird. I’ve always thought Heero was attractive, but at this moment, he’s sexy. Girls would swoon. This guy could have any chick he wanted. And I feel the tug ever so slightly. I feel guilt swell deep in my stomach, though. I didn’t come here to be attracted to him, I came to be his friend and for him to be mine. I don’t want to get the lines blurred, that’s when things get complicated. I don’t want any more complications.  
  
“As I recall, the girls liked _you_ in high school," the evidence of playfulness is so light on his tongue.  
  
I stretch back and lazily retort, “Yeah, but that was high school, now we’re grown ups, it counts more now.”  
  
He shakes his head gently in fake exasperation.  
  
“Are you seeing anyone?” he suddenly asks.  
  
“Nah”, I muse my lips to the side, “Not since Hilde. It was pretty intense. I’m not going to come aboard until I know the ship ain’t gonna sink. I don’t want another mess like that.”  
  
He ponders this for a moment before pointing out, “You said you were still friends.”  
  
“Yeah, we are, but it took a while to get there. There were a lot of things left unsaid. In the end, _she_ actually left _me_. So I’ve had, you know, casual relationships, but nothing serious.”  
  
He nods and adds, “Relena and I were only romantically involved for a short time. I thought it was what I wanted, but it wasn’t.”  
  
I, being a very curious person, had to ask, “What _do_ you want?”  
  
“Someone I don’t need to protect.”  
  
He says it in this low, heavy voice and I let it sink in. I tumble it around in my brain. I feel a little elated that, here we are doing exactly what I wanted. We’re becoming friends.  
  
“I want someone who understands m,", I say after a while, “I don’t need to keep explaining myself, they just know.”  
  
Then he takes what I say in; both memorizing each other, learning each other.  
  
“You have casual flings?” he queries and I just about fall off my chair. Heero Yuy asking me about my one night stands?  
  
I laugh by habit and shakily reply, “Yeah. I guess. I mean, not right now since I’m here. How rude would _that_ be? ‘D’ya mind getting out of your apartment, Heero, so I could bring this total stranger into your home and bump him?’”  
  
I chuckle to myself and shake my head, “No, I wouldn’t do that.”  
  
It takes me a minute to realize he’s just looking at me with this weird intensity. Like there’s a whole lot of something on my face.  
  
“What?”   
  
He slowly questions, “Bump _‘him’_?”  
  
Oh.....My....God. That was the dumbest thing I’ve done in a long, _long_ time. My brains stops working for a second before it stutters back to live. Mouth, you will never lead the conversation again.  
  
It’s now too obvious to deny, so I move on to Step 2: play it cool.  
  
I tilt my head and, disbelievingly, ask, “Yeah, you didn’t know that? I’m bi. I thought you would have figured that out.”  
  
Then, there comes the grave, foreboding silence. Terrific, I just fucked it up. Fan-fucking-tastic.  
  
“Oh," he finally says.  
  
“You okay with that?”  
  
“Your sexual preference is not my business," his voice is crisp, clean, and detached.  
  
I roll my eyes and add, “Okay, but if you’re going to get weird on me, tell me now.”  
  
There’s the sting of rejection gnawing at my innards, but I shoo it away. _It’s cool, it’s cool._ I can still salvage this.  
  
“What do you mean?” I swear to God and the holy angels, I think I see him falter ever so slightly while talking.  
  
“Like, don’t think that I’m going to molest you in your sleep or do anything to you.”  
  
There’s a very bewildered pause before he actually _laughs_. Out loud and everything. I’m impressed. And that funny feeling rumbles in my stomach again. I chose to ignore it.  
  
“I don’t think you’d try," he chuckles while putting the dishes away.   
  
“Yes, being bisexual doesn’t impact my judgement; I know you can twist me into a pretzel.”  
  
There’s words that almost make it past his lips before he holds them back. I’m about to ask about them when I hear a beeper go off. He sighs and searches his pocket. When his hand returns, it has a pager and he looks at the number. The stern, detached Heero resurfaces.  
  
“I have to go," he tells me.  
  
“Work?”  
  
He nods, but then pauses. There’s a moment between us and it’s awkward. We both don’t know what to do or what to say, so Heero does what’s natural; he doesn’t say anything...  
  



	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero tries to get to the bottom of Duo's recent visit...
> 
> POV change

POV: Heero

I don’t understand it. I have some ideas why he’s here, but...there’s nothing concrete. Duo has always been hard for me to read. He’s obnoxious, then he’s compatible. He’s joking, then he’s serious. He’s unpredictable. He has this whole facade, but I’m not sure how deep it goes. I’m not even sure if I’m really even talking to him most of the time. He’s there, but he’s not.   
  
I turn into the parking lot of my apartment. It’s near 4 a.m. and I’m not really tired. I’m not drained, but more weightless. Relena’s safe and sound, crises averted. I wish I could go into my home and just sit like I usually do. I sit on my couch and watch the wall. It relaxes me. But Duo’s on my couch. I still can’t tell if he makes my life better or worse.  
  
 _Duo’s a friend and then he’s not_.  
  
I open up the door and find him reading a book, still awake. Half of me is glad, and the other is frustrated. I just want to be alone, but I want to spend time with Duo. Life was so much easier without him.  
  
“Hey”, he greets me softly and smiles.  
  
“Hey”, I echo him and add, “Why aren’t you asleep?”  
  
“Couldn’t sleep”, his grin widens, shrugging.  
  
I nod and take off my shoes. While I’m putting away my coat, he admits quietly, “I kinda was waiting for you. I tried going to bed, but...It’s been a while since we’ve just talked. Earlier, I liked that. I thought, if you weren’t too tired... ”  
  
“We’ve only talked like that a few times before.”  
  
“Yeah”, he agrees slowly and makes a quick glance down.  
  
“There’s not much to say.”  
  
“I”, Duo pauses, and painfully confesses, “I kind of need a friend right now.”  
  
“There’s Quatre.”  
  
He sighs loudly, “Yeah, there’s Quatre, but he’s got his own problems right now...I don’t need him to be bothered by mine.”  
  
I hadn’t known that Quatre was having problems. Every time he contacted me he seemed like, well, the same Quatre during the war. Strong and hopeful. I felt guilty for not noticing it. I’ll have to get in contact with him, he’s been a good friend. _Consistently._   
  
“So, you assumed that I didn’t have my own problems to deal with”, I point out.  
  
His expression flushes with shame and he replies, “I thought everything was going well for you. You tell me that you’re okay every time we talk.”  
  
“And the last thing you told me was that you and Hilde were thinking about getting married.”  
  
I know I’ve hurt him, even though he covers it up well. I’m not going to go easy on him, I never have. If he has a problem, he’s going to face it. If he comes to me for help, this is the way I deal with my problems. If he doesn’t like it, he can leave again and not speak to me...again.  
  
“Like I’ve said, I’ll leave if you want me to.”  
  
I think about it. I’m tempted. He’s caused me so much confusion in the past. I’m not sure what to do, I’m not sure what me heart is telling me to do.  
  
I sit down on the couch next to him. I stare at the wall. He gives me silence and I’m grateful. I measure everything out as he shifts uncomfortably next to me. I want to, but I wont. Not yet. Him being here, it reminds me of when I was young. I was so concentrated and naive. Being with Duo before was new to me, having someone pick me up when I fell, I never had that. I was a one man army, I was trained to work alone. However, there were times that working alone seemed empty and...lonely. I know now that mankind has always needed a community to function and to thrive. In isolation, man is weaker. Humans need social interaction and a community to be stable. I needed him then. And now, he needs me.  
  
“No”, I reply, “It’s okay.”  
  
He mumbles, “Thanks.”  
  
We stay like that for some time, sitting next to each other, and watching the wall together. After a while, he chuckles and lightly bumps into me.  
  
“Remember that one time when we were in that high school and I had most of my clothes in the laundry mat downstairs? I didn’t have any clean clothes to wear, so I slept in the buff. And that happened to be the day one of the kids pulled the fire alarm, and I freaked out and ran outside”, he snickers, “Everyone got a good view that night.”  
  
“How could I forget”, I say dryly and roll my eyes. I had been so angry and disgusted at the time.  
  
“That was crazy.”  
  
That memory sparks something else, other things that happened. Gossip and rumors. Some of our peers would approach me and question if we were romantically involved, others would boast that they’ve seen Duo naked before. Behind his back, of course, but I thought nothing of it. I thought they were just trying to be more popular by spreading the slander. But maybe some of them were right. There were a few boys that claimed they had spent the night with him. Maybe they were telling the truth.   
  
I realize I really don’t know Duo and I never did.  
  
“You okay?” he asks, looking concerned.  
  
“Yeah, fine”, I grunt out and start getting up to leave, but his hand holds my wrist. He doesn’t grab or pull, but just holds it there.  
  
“What’s up?” his tone is soft but heavy, “I want to know.”  
  
What should I say? ‘Duo, I don’t know who you are’? ‘Were you always like this and I never noticed’? Do I even want to know about his past? Why is it my business? It isn’t.  
  
I repeat myself, “Why are you here?”  
  
His face falls and his hand pulls back, “To be your friend.”  
  
I hate this unending circle. This is the Duo I loathe. Too proud to say what’s really bothering him. Too proud to commit to help when he asks for it.  
  
“Bullshit”, I say again, “If that was true, you wouldn’t have stopped talking to me and then dump yourself at my door. Tell me now, this is your last chance.”  
  
There’s anger on his face and I think he’s going to punch me, but then immediately he’s sullen and somber.  
  
“Why do you need a friend?”  
  
“Because I just keep losing them, okay?!” He’s angry again, suddenly. He’s like me. When he’s wounded, he gives in to fury. It's easier that way.   
  
“What do you mean?” I reply calmly.  
  
“What do I mean?!”, he suddenly laughs without mirth or emotion, “I mean that I can’t keep ‘em. That I fuck it up somehow, like I did with Hilde and Quatre and you. I mean that they die and I just have to keep moving on like they were never there. I’m so sick of losing people, Heero! I want to be happy, too! And I look around and nobody is. No one’s happy. I don’t want to be alone and I don’t want to be the last one around!”  
  
It’s hard to follow, he’s jumping around subjects, but he’s being honest.  
  
“I want to be your friend because...”  
  
He pauses and then shakes his head.  
  
“Never mind”, he snaps bitterly, “I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”  
  
“Duo”, I say cooly as he sits back down and stares at the wall, “If you don’t finish this, I’m kicking you out and not turning back. You came here for a reason and you’ll make it clear now. If you want to be my friend, like you keep saying, you’re going to have to tell me why you’re here.”  
  
I add before he says anything, “Finish your sentence.”  
  
He leans back into the couch and mutters, “It’s stupid, it’s childish, I know. I know all that, but...I want you to be the friend that doesn’t give up right away and that doesn’t die on me...”  
  
I don’t know what to say to that. I sit down, too.  
  
“Howard died”, he tells me suddenly, “Howard died last week. I went to the funeral, not many came. Not many even knew about it. He didn’t have any family. It was all real quick. But...I started thinking. It was one more person that I’ve buried. I’m sick of it."   
  
He shakes his head, mumbling,“I want to be happy. I don’t want to die with a handful of people at my funeral. I don’t want people to talk about how I was a gundam pilot and not know anything else about me. I suddenly realized that I didn’t have the people in my life that I wanted to be there. I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want complications and I sure as hell don’t want to be out-of-place any more. I want to reconnect. Then I thought of you.”  
  
He smiles slightly as he says, “I thought of the times we were together and I don’t know about you, but I always thought we had something. A bond, or something. I liked hanging around you and thinking, ‘This guy is really ' _freakin’ nuts!_ ’ I found out that I missed you and not the ‘hi, how’ya doing’ chats we’d have. I missed bumping into you while saving the world. I missed pissing you off and driving you crazy.”  
  
He shrugs, “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”  
  
I shrug, “It’s all right.”  
  
A mischievous grins sprouts on his face, “If I was suicidal, I’d hug you right now. I better save it for when you’re sleepy and off your guard.”  
  
“Don’t hug me”, I warn him and he laughs. I want to laugh, too, but I don’t. I feel more comfortable, though. I lean back into the couch.  
  
“So”, his tone is light again, “What’s your favourite colour?”  
  
I glare at him. I’m not in the mood. This is pointless.  
  
“Come on, how am I supposed to get to know you if I don’t ask these things?”  
  
“My favourite colour is pretty pointless to ask about.”  
  
“Okay, what’s your type?”  
  
“Type?”  
  
“Of woman?”  
  
I snort in annoyance and he chuckles.   
  
“The kind that shuts up when she’s being annoying.”  
  
“So, she should be quiet. This is starting to sound like Wufei’s ideal woman.”  
  
He laughs loudly and I interject, “I don’t think Wufei wants a woman.”  
  
I hadn’t meant it as any other way than that he enjoys his privacy and likes a solitary life, but Duo didn’t take it that way. He nearly howls with laughter at my accidental joke.  
  
“You’re probably right!” he exclaims, breathless, “Maybe I should have hit on him and see what he’d do.”  
  
That leaves me feeling odd and uncomfortable. Kind of cold. Kind of out of body.  
  
“Did you ever try to...hit on any of us?” I ask slowly.  
  
His expression becomes nervous and guarded.  
  
“You mean the guys? No, of course not. I knew that vibes weren’t there, but...”  
  
He rubs the back of his neck and his smile is more secretive, “Honestly, I did kiss Quatre once. I mean, he kissed me, too, but that’s all. Not really anything.”  
  
Something about that makes me feel vulnerable and weird. This happened between two people I respect and I didn’t even know.  
  
“You’re not grossed out, are you? Because we can get off this subject at any time”, he grins, but it’s forced. He’s anxious.  
  
“Whatever happened is between you”, I reply, but it sounds hollow even to me.  
  
“It really wasn’t anything. He was just...and I was...Well, it just happened.”  
  
“Things like that can just happen?” I honestly ask, because I can’t see how someone can accidentally kiss someone. You can’t just fall into it, it has to be thought out. There has to be elements forming and a social process to it.   
  
“Sure”, he shrugs, “It didn’t break our friendship any. It was just something we both needed at the time. It ended there.”  
  
That’s so alien to me. Something like that is usually something well thought out and carefully prepared. You are romantically involved with someone, you kiss them. That’s how it was explained to me. But here he is, still friends with Quatre, laughing about it. Maybe it isn’t such an important event or maybe it’s just not that important to Duo.  
  
I blame exhaustion for what I say next, because I honestly didn’t mean to say it, “Did you ever want to kiss me?”  
  
He freezes for a moment, stuck on what I’ve just said. We both are. We don’t move. Silence. I can see his brain working around it, twisting an answer I don’t want to hear.  
  
“I got to get ready for work”, I tell him, looking at my watch.  
  
“You”, he slowly starts to speak, “You just got home from it. You haven’t even slept yet.”  
  
“It’s my job, I have to make some sacrifices. Relena needs me.”  
  
He just nods as I put my shoes back on and grab my jacket out of the closet.  
  
“I’ll see you later”, I call over my shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, sure” is his feeble reply and then I’m gone.  
  
  
***  
  
When I come back home, I’m tired. I’m not dead-tired yet, I’ve been through worse, but this still isn’t easy. I open the door and he’s on the couch again. We don’t say anything as I put away my things.   
  
“There’s sushi in the fridge.”  
  
“Sushi?” I ask, incredulous.  
  
“Yeah, you like it.”  
  
I do, but I don’t say anything.  
  
As I get it out, he slides off the couch and leans against the kitchen’s wall, with his arms crossed. He's looking very anxious.  
  
“Yeah?” I say with my mouth full.  
  
“What would you do if I said no? You know...To what you asked?"  
  
I shrug, understanding that he’s carrying on the conversation from before.  
  
“I don’t know why I asked, I just did”, I state.  
  
“So, you wouldn’t feel any different if I said either yes or no?”  
  
I nod, and pick up another piece of sushi.  
  
He looks to the side, “Then, yeah, I’ve thought about it, but I don’t want this to come between us, okay? I mean, compared to her majesty’s loyalty towards you, my mere thought of it is microscopic.”  
  
He smiles, but I don’t. My stomach feels cold. I feel odd. I've been feeling a lot of things that I shouldn’t be feeling lately. But I’ve never been the one to back away.  
  
“So, you could kiss me and it wouldn’t mean anything?” I ask, still perplexed by this whole notion.   
  
“I guess...”  
  
I can tell he’s even more nervous because he laughs, “What? You're asking me to kiss you, Heero?”  
  
I shrug and he tenses. I eat my sushi. I’m curious. He just stands there.   
  
“Okay.”  
  
He says this and steps forward towards me. I’m hesitant, so is he. I think he’s waiting for me to say, ‘Are you kidding?’ But this means nothing. Friends do this all the time. _Or so he says._  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Circa 2012-ish? My formatting is wonky. Please excuse this humble box.


	4. A Kiss to Build a Dream On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo POV: 
> 
> Things continue to be more complicated as they struggle to reconnect their friendship.

I’m near him and my heart’s just about out of my chest. Is he _serious_? He can’t _really_ be, right? This is not what I intended. I didn’t come here for this. I came here...to just get away from life. I came here to hide for a while. Things are going to get complicated. There are all these warning bells going off in my head.   
  
Should I risk my friendship for a kiss that won’t mean anything?   
  
He can tell I’m hesitating, he’s getting impatient. It's like he's waiting for me to call his bluff, like he's challenging me.  
  
I step forward again. We’re close enough that I just need to lean forward to kiss him. I can smell his sweat. I can see the dark circles hanging from his eyes. He looks like shit, he should really go to bed...  
  
Would I risk the friendship if I said no?  
  
I lean forward and kiss him quickly and lightly on the lips. A kiss shared among good friends and close families. A kiss that should mean nothing, but somehow does. It’s awkward and I pull away quick. He looks confused and I smile for him.  
  
“There," I boast, “One smooch from Duo Maxwell.”  
  
His expression is a blend of disappointment and confusion.  
  
“Is that how you kissed Quatre?” he asks.  
  
“Well," I stall and quickly form what I want to say, trying not to insult him, “The situation then was different. We were desperate and angry. We were teenage boys. We were young. It happened suddenly and ended suddenly. I didn’t have time to think about it.”  
  
I feel like I’m being rubbed against gravel, which sounds better than talking to Heero about my old semi-love life with our mutual buddy, Quatre.   
  
And I don’t have time to think this time because Heero’s grabbed me, hands against my face, his lips on mine, moving against mine. He’s sloppy and clumsy. It’s not nearly as passionate as Quatre’s was, nor as soulful. When I was kissing Quatre, it felt like I was melding, seriously melding with him. It was the weirdest thing, but felt so good. Not lustful at all, but pure. Just lips and warmth and softness...  
  
And Heero feels good, but off. Something is missing. Something is wrong. It doesn’t feel as good. I kiss back, but because, somehow, I feel obligated to. Maybe I led him on, maybe I made him curious, but whatever I did, it was _my_ fault.   
  
It ends, as all kisses do. I’m not breathless because of the kiss but from being caught off-guard. I’m in shock. I can’t believe that Heero kissed me and I’m not exactly sure why.  
  
He looks at me for a few seconds, slow and deep, like he’s observing me. Then he turns back to his food and keeps eating.   
  
I don’t think there’s anything I can say. That kiss was so awkward and it’s even worse now. I can’t think of anything to say and the silence is overwhelming. There's nothing...  
  
Why do I get the feeling I was somehow rejected? Like I was dismissed?   
  
Should I bring it up?   
  
No, life goes on.  
  
“Hey, Heero," I say after a full five minutes, after I rediscover my voice, “What time do you get off work tomorrow?”  
  
“1800," is his smooth, sharp reply.  
  
“There’s a movie playing that I thought you might like, wanna go see it?”  
  
He shrugs, which I take as a ‘yes’.  
  
After that, he takes a shower and goes to bed. I stay up most of the night trying to act like myself, but I’m not sure who that is right now...

***  
  
The next day, we go out and a kiss never happened between us. I try hard, twice as hard, to act normal, to be my cute and chatty self, but find my own voice grating after a while. However, I soldier on because anything at this point is better than silence.  
  
I need to focus. I need to move on. Obviously, he's not changed by it, and I'm a little relieved. I want this to be about us, about the way we were during the war. Things were so much harder and easier back then. There was a lack of fear, it was live and fight. Keep living. Keep fighting. Now that I'm just living and settling into the mundane, all these new feelings keep rising - new fears. I never used to care what people thought of me. I was up for anything, but now that I have a future...I don't want it to be alone and that scares the shit out of me.  
  
So, I just need concentrate of being friends. Finding out who the after-war Heero is and maybe who the after-war Duo is along the way. Yeah, shitty plan, but it's all I got.  
  
"What's the movie about?" he asks as we drive there, after I've become quiet trying to catch another subject to ramble on about.  
  
"A hitman falls in love with one of his targets, so he tries to save her. Apparently it's pretty funny, too."  
  
He's skeptical and I'm graced by a reply, "It sounds predictable."  
  
"Aw, c'mon," I smile and poke his shoulder lightly, "Give it a chance. You can't judge everything by a brief synopsis."  
  
He just shakes his head and, thankfully, we're at the theatre. It's chilly and I'm glad I brought my jacket. Heero's less fortunate, not that you'd know. Not a shiver, not an indication. He could be in Hawaii or Greenland and he'd look the same. I heard he was in Antarctic and I wonder briefly if he was still wearing that green top he used to have without a jacket, unaffected. I wouldn't be surprised.  
  
He gets to the ticket booth before me and orders for two tickets...Then he just hands mine to me and we're inside.  
  
Why does this feel a little like a date? In fact, the feeling grows as he gets us both snacks. One popcorn bucket, to share I assume.  
  
"Hey, man," I say after he hands me a drink, "It's okay, I can pay. I'm not _that_ poor."  
  
He just shrugs and I'm slightly touched. Even without creepy date-feeling, he's being more receptive to me now than he has these last few days. Hell, I'd go as far as to say that he may enjoy my company, even if only in the tiniest bit. Makes me happy. It makes me feel like coming here, in his life, _was_ a good idea and not a waste of time. It makes me feel warm. I let myself soak in that before I can find a way to unwittingly fuck it up by doing or saying something stupid.  
  
"This is the place to be," I explain, like I'm a movie connoisseur, "Right in the back. No one kicking the back of the seat and you can see the whole picture."  
  
"I thought," he replies as we sit down in the very back row, "that the back row was for kids that want to make-out."  
  
I laugh, incredulously, " _What?_ Well, I guess. I guess that you can't really see what's going on back here."  
  
There's some weird tenseness between us, but I joke it off, "Then I guess there will be some disappointed kids."  
  
"Have you ever sat back here with someone?" he asks blatantly, boldly, and I'm not sure what to really say to that. When in doubt, _play dumb.  
_  
"Sure," I say proudly, "Like I've said, this is these are the best seats in the place."  
  
And it may be luck or some type of god who's finally listened to me, but he lets the subject drop.  
  
Have I been back here to make-out before? Yeah, I have. In fact, I've done more extreme things, but in my defense, I wanted life fast and vivid. I was about to die, or so I thought, so I wanted to be a man, wanted to experience life before I died. All the kids thought I was so courageous since I said exactly how I felt and acted on it. If I thought someone was cute, I'd go for it. 'Have fun, but don't get attached,' I'd tell myself.  
  
And now that I'm getting older and I've tried and done so many things, I feel like I was cheated. Like the whole war, _like Death_ , just pulled a prank on me and now I've lost what little innocence I still had left.   
  
God, I feel so old.   
  
The movie isn't bad, although it is a bit predictable. _Damn it_ , I wanted to be right.   
  
"So?" I ask after we sit through the credits (I was ready to leave, but I guess Heero likes seeing _every_ single person's name of who worked on the movie).  
  
He pauses before answering, "It wasn't bad."  
  
I'm going to assume that he means that he liked it.  
  
"I liked the part about the fake baby," I remark as we head out.  
  
"I know," he says with a sliver of a smirk on his lips, "You didn't stop laughing for a while. You were pretty loud."  
  
"Sorry about that," I apologize and shrug.  
  
"No," he shakes his head at me and actually smiles,"It's fine. You're good at expressing yourself. I like it."  
  
Before brain registers mouth and 'o.k.'s what's coming out next, I flirtatiously tease, "So you like it when I'm loud? You should hear me in bed."  
  
And again, here I fuck it up. Thank you, it's a talent.  
  
There's silence between us and it's _thick_ , so thick that it's hard to breathe.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry," I apologize when he doesn't even _look at me_ , just walks, staring ahead of him, "I just...I don't mean it. I'm just kidding. It's just how I kid around. I guess I'm so used to talking this way, that I forget..."  
  
 _That he doesn't know that I'm just joking? That he's uncomfortable with my sexuality? That he kissed me? That there's been this growing tension between us, maybe always has been there?_  
  
We get to the car and get inside and he still hasn't said a word, in fact, he looks pretty pissed.  
  
After he starts up the car and drives, I bring it up again, "Heero? You can tell me to go to hell or say, 'Hey, Duo, eat shit'. I don't care, but I can't read you like this."  
  
"Funny. I can't read you _at all_ ," he replies crisply, shortly after me, "Whenever I think I can, you change again. I'm getting tired of it."  
  
He's always good at being honest, at least.  
  
"I was just joking."  
  
"I really don't know if you're as secure as you think you pretend to be or maybe, at least, with me about it."  
  
_Huh?_ That throws me off.  
  
"It's just that," I bounce a little in the seat trying to explain myself, "I don't want you to get...I don't want it to be a gap between us. It feels like the white elephant. I want you to be comfortable, but it's an awkward subject. I can't read you, man. It's the same way. I sometimes know you so well, like I know exactly what you're going to say, but then..."  
  
He waits, I guess for me to explain more.  
  
"I was just joking," I mumble, defending myself again, "I'll try not to do it again."  
  
"I don't care," he snaps, sharply, "I don't care if you're taking about yourself or not, but be consistent. Don't jerk me around. Not only is it cowardly, but it's confusing. If you just brush it off as a joke and grin like you do, I know it's just you playing...But when you do this...When you're making it a bigger deal..."  
  
He pauses and finally looks at me quickly before setting his eyes back on the road, "I'm not sure if and when you're joking anymore."  
  
That new-fear crawls into my stomach. The way he looked at, the way he says it, it makes me nervous. I didn't mean it to go down like this. We're supposed to be normal, normal buddy-cop vibe. This is getting complicated and I'm somehow getting hurt. Why does it feel like I'm continually being rejected? Like we're still teenagers and I'm still struggling to understand him...  
  
In my quiet turmoil, he adds slowly, "If it's not a joke, then I want you to tell me. Don't keep doing this. It confuses me."  
  
My mouth dries, all the moisture sucked down by the reality of the situation. He's asking if I'm interested in him. No, this isn't how it should be. Why did I fuck it up? We should be laughing about the movie right now, going through the inconsistencies of it. How lame the guns looked. How unrealistic the romance was. Shit like that. It's not supposed to be like this...  
  
Heero turns onto the road for his apartment, but keeps driving past.  
  
"Heero...what," I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.  
  
"So, is it a joke? Are you joking with me?"  
  
I rub my forehead and sigh. He just waits, keeps driving to nowhere. I wonder if he'll kick me out depending on the answer.   
  
"I don't know, Heero," I whisper honestly, "I didn't come here to...I just wanted to reconnect."  
  
Stiffly he nods, watching the road carefully.  
  
Again, he nods, but there's a small flair of anger in his eyes, quickly surfacing in the coldness before pushed back down.  
  
"So you don't know if you're joking or not..."  
  
God, couldn't _anything_ else come up? A little fender-bender to distract him from this? An interrupting phone call from work? Seriously, this is too _painful_.  
  
"I just...there's a lot in the way. I mean, we have a lot to talk about and figure out, you know? Besides, I don't want to weird you out, so just forget about it."  
  
"It doesn't weird me out," he answers, directly, "So, your reluctance is emotional, not sexual?"  
  
" _What the hell?!_ What?" I choke out, shock and embarrassment washing over me in a cold sweat, "I didn't...What the hell, Heero?"  
  
"Just getting to know you," he replies, almost spitefully.  
  
"What's this about?" I pretty much demand an answer.  
  
He slowly, deeply breathes, but doesn't say anything.  
  
"Since when have you been passive-aggressive?" I snap,"Better tell me now."  
  
"I don't think you wanted to kiss me, but you pushed the issue. I didn't know why, so it must be emotional. You've said that you've thought of me sexually before, so you must still be-"  
  
"Woah," I butt in, "Where do _you_ get off telling _me_ how I feel? And, yeah, I was reluctant about the kiss (I can't believe we're talking about this), I mean, I didn't want to complicate things between us. And that's complicating. You were the one who did it, so don't pretend like you're above all this or something. Apparently you think _I'm_ hot stuff since you wanted to try it with _me. It's a two-way street, Yuy_."  
  
Yeah, take that and eat it, Heero. You deserve it for being such an ass. How's it feel like to have it rubbed in _your_ face?  
  
"I didn't think it would interfere with our friendship," he murmurs, like he's ashamed.  
  
"Where would you get _that_ idea?"  
  
"You and Quatre are still friends. It didn't interfere."  
  
_OH._ Oh, I get it. So, he thought...we'd be okay? So, he's been...I don't need this. I really don't need this crap. I can't even understand him.  
  
"I'm not playing any games. Let's just work on being friends, or at least civil towards each other. That'd be a big step."  
  
He stiffly nods and we drive back to his place in a confusing silence.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Heero, I sit through all of the credits, too...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content in this chapter.

When I wake up, he's gone, and I assume that it has something to do with work. I'm slightly relieved. I need some space. _We_ need space. To clear up the air and all.  
  
I get up and turn up the radio, loud enough that his neighbors must hear it. I dig into the fridge, trying to find something edible and delicious...at least I found something edible. Bagels, no cream cheese, and an egg. Well, I've had worse, or nothing at all.   
  
I fry up the egg, listening to the radio, and just let myself forget for just a little while. I find myself having small fun as I sway to the music and try to flip up my egg high up like you seen on tv with real chiefs. I miss it, but thankfully, it ends up back in the pan.  
  
I eat my egg/bagel sandwich as I read the news on his computer. Same old news; life and death, rape and robbery. I look up the stocks and find Quatre's company. It says it's up five shares, so I'm assuming that's good. At least he has a career to manage. I can't say that I even have that in my life now.  
  
I laugh when I remember that he tried to talk me into working for him.  
  
"I can always use people, Duo," he had said, with this encouraging smirk, "Especially people I can trust."  
  
"So you want to _use_ me," I had joked, and loved the flash of a blush on his cheeks, "Is that an _actual_ position? You business men sure are kinky-"  
  
"Duo! Listen, I can find something fun, something that you would like."  
  
After a while, he gave up, though. It felt to me too much like charity and I can make it on my own. Maybe he was just desperate to have a friend nearby and I start feeling guilty. But it's his choice to stay there, just like it was mine to leave.  
  
An idea forms and I hurry up with my breakfast and jump in the shower, the radio still playing and I can hear short, distorted notes through the water spray.   
  
I'm really glad I brought my hair dryer or else I'd be stuck with wet hair all day probably. Like Heero would have a hair dryer. The only thing that it any kind of vanity in the bathroom is unused cologne, most likely an unfortunate gift that he just hasn't thrown away yet. I can see why doesn't use it, though, it smells awful.   
  
***  
  
It's cold outside, but sunny. I smile to people passing by and get a tiny thrill when they nod and smile back. What a great community! Heero did good by moving here, and maybe one day I can convince him of that.  
  
I'm in no hurry; I have all day to spend on my own, assuming Heero's going to be back home around six-thirty like usual-ish.   
  
Walking through a park, I watch dogs play together and feel envious. I had always wanted one, but never had the time/money/energy/living space for one. I walk over and chat with the owners, pet their dogs, make small talk to kill time. Surprisingly, I get the phone number of a college girl without even asking for it.

Walking away, to whatever new destination I have yet to find, I laugh. It's ironic. When I _wanted_ a relationship, there wasn't anyone really around, and now when I'm concentrating on myself and my platonic relationships, people finally step up. It's funny.  
  
I still tuck the number in my pocket, feeling the paper crinkle gently in my hand. I guess I still got the ol' Duo-charm. I laugh again and it feels good just to be able to laugh to myself again.  
  
I eventually find what I came out for. A postcard that says, 'Wish you were here!'

The postcard has pictures of the high buildings and small parks of the city. It's so quaint and simple, I know Quatre will like it. And I _do_ wish he was here. Maybe things would be less confusing and a little easier. Plus, I miss him, just talking to him. When we'd talk, it just flowed and mixed together, never an effort. I could tease freely without double-thinking everything I just said. He just shakes his head, sometimes blushes, and tries to change the subject. With Heero, it feels like a mortal sin when I let something like that slip.  
  
Rubbing my forehead, I try to smooth out the tension hanging there. How was I supposed to know that he's attracted to me? Yeah, right, that's like a rock flirting with you. Heero, _flirting_? I laugh out loud again, heading to Heero's apartment.  
  
I imagine him gruffly and evenly saying, "Hey, baby, your place or mine?"  
  
That's too funny and I think I missed my calling as a comedian.

I try to conjure of the images of Heero trying to be romantic and it's even worse. He's so clueless, he'd probably take someone out to a shooting range or something. What did he do with _Relena_? Probably take her to the opera and fancy shit like that, but it was more likely that _she_ took _him_. I don't think he'd be the one to take the initiative in something like that. Would he go for cliche since that's just common knowledge? Probably, but some girls might go for that...  
  
But what would he do for _me_?  
  
Smacking my head, I banish the thought, but I have a foreboding feeling it's just hidden and not completely gone. Like most of my feelings and thoughts.  
  
When I walk in, I see all the lights are on and I hear the shower going. Damn, I was wrong, it's only five and he's already home. I lie out on the couch and off-handedly I notice a movie box on the coffee table. I sit up and pick it up, examining it. It's an action movie about spies. I've heard of it, but never watched it. Did he pick this up before he came home?  
  
The shower stops abruptly and I slowly set it back down and sprawl out again. The ceiling isn't terribly interesting, not even a stain, just pristine white.   
  
His hair's still wet when he comes into the living room and isn't surprised to find me here. He nods to me and I nod back with a smirk.   
  
"Delivery?" he asks, reaching for the phone.  
  
"Sure, but before I go, we should actually make a meal to prove we're not just bachelor bums."  
  
His lips fold in slightly as he dials up Thai for us. When he's done, he nods over to the coffee table, "You want to?"  
  
I'm guessing he means the movie. Well, I'm not going to let him off the hook that easy.  
  
"Huh? Oh, the movie? Did you pick that up?"  
  
"Yeah," he says walking to me, standing in front of the couch, but I don't sit up. My legs are still stretched out. I smile at him, not letting him on the couch.  
  
"You got home early," I remark.  
  
"Yeah," he replies, not giving in.  
  
"Not a lot to do at the office?" I grin , innocently.  
  
"Duo, do you want me to...'bend you into a pretzel'? Move."  
  
I break. I give in. I laugh and sit up, letting him sit beside me. He deserves it. A small, proud smile rests on his lips and he looks down at his hands. It's an almost shy gesture and my breath turns in on itself, feeling drunken butterflies stumble in my stomach. _I crush them.  
_  
"Sure, load up the movie. Have you seen it?"  
  
"No," he replies, getting up to put it in the player, "I asked someone at 'the office' what a good movie was and he recommended this."  
  
"You guys talk about movies a lot?" I wonder aloud, strangely interested and intrigued by the sudden notion of Heero's relationships at his work. What kind of people does he hang out with there? Is this something they talk about often? Does he have pictures on his desk? Does he hang out with people in the breakroom? Sign birthday cards?  
  
"No, I've never really talked to him before," he tells me and sits back down, not glancing at me, but at the screen the whole time.  
  
How can that be so flattering and yet disheartening? He approached someone so he could watch a movie with me, which is honestly touching, but I have that weird date-feeling again. If this was any other guy, I'd just shrug it off. So, big deal, he asked someone at work for movie advice, but since he's probably never went to anyone before about something like this, it makes it unique. It makes it awkward.  
  
I'll just assume he just wants to connect with me on a friendlier level and movies are a safe and easy way to go. I ignore the gesture.  
  
We watch the movie, munching on our pad see ew when the delivery finally come. It's weird, but I never noticed before how quiet he is when he eats. It's stupid to notice, I know, but it's something I never picked up before. Then again, during the war, we usually just scarfed up the food and went on. Now we can sit, relax, and watch a movie...  
  
The credits roll and again, he watches every name. I wonder why. It's such a funny quirk.  
  
"Are you really interested in the 'best boy'?"  
  
"I like seeing all the people who've worked on it. That's the reason for credits, isn't it? They were meant to be read."  
  
I shrug, "Yeah, I guess. Just most people don't really care about who was behind the camera."  
  
"But aren't they the ones that actually made the movie? They're just as important as the actors."  
  
For a second, I can't think of anything to say. That's pretty...insightful. And that's the Heero that I admired before, during the war. The Heero that looks beyond the bigger picture, to every one who's a part of it.   
  
I smile at him and he looks at me and blankly asks, "What?"  
  
I shake my head softly, "Nothing. It's just cool, what you said."  
  
"I'm _cool_?" he asks in a tone that's confused, but lightly teasing and I don't know how he pulled it off. In a way that only he could, I guess.  
  
"Um, yeah, Mr. I-can-bend-metal-bars. You're better than the spies in the movie; you could have pulled off those stunts better. Sometimes, if I didn't see it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed half of the shit you've managed to pull."  
  
"I guess I _am_ cool," he says, dead-pan, but there's humor playing in his eyes.  
  
That's when I realize this is set-up. I mean, not that he set it up, per se, but it _is_. We're here, sitting on the couch, close to touching. Turned towards each other and the feeling, the fucking _feeling_ is there and it says, 'kiss him, touch him' and god **DAMN** it, I _want to_. And, with the way he pauses, the way he looks at me, it feels like he's just waiting for me to make a move.  
  
I am so torn.   
  
I feel like I should more just than because I want to, I feel like I should for him, too. I mean, he's just as confused as I am. I'm sure that he hasn't been attracted to that many people and had the chance and opportunity, especially with some one that he could trust. Heero doesn't trust just any one...  
  
But I just want to be friends...  
  
Maybe we can be both?  
  
A rational, distant part of my mind knows that it can't happen like that, not with him, but I'm leaning in already. Sure, Quatre and I are still friends, Heero's right. We can still be friends...This can be okay.  
  
He doesn't move at all, doesn't even breathe when I'm close to him, lightly connect my lips to his. He doesn't move, frozen in the moment.

I kiss him again, harder this time, my lips cling and tug on his. His mouth opens wider and my lungs tingle, air is harder to breathe, harder to move. The next kiss is harder and lingers longer than the last, smooth and soft. His lips twitch and move slowly against mine, figuring the pressure and the rhythm. Our kiss opens and slides against our lips, becoming wetter and deeper.

This is the kiss that I wanted before with him. Still awkward and unnerving, but no bravado and no facade. Just us, _just us_ moving against each other.  
  
Heero tries hard to match my lips, to mirror me, to use the same movements. I pull back slightly.  
  
"Don't over-think," I whisper, my chin brushing against his face, "Don't think at all, _just kiss me_."  
  
And he does. His lips find mine and his hands move to my face, gingerly holding it. He deepens the kiss, sliding his mouth on mine, spreading his lips for whatever comes next, being open and wanting. I shiver and slip my tongue into his mouth, pushing and rubbing against his tongue. His body jumps quietly and subtly, but I feel it, I swallow it, _I take it from him_.   
  
My fingers dig into his shoulder-blades, feeling his muscles, tight and hard. I turn more towards him, clumsily climbing on top of him, both of us settling and resettling until I'm fully on top of him, in between his legs, shallowly grinding myself against his groin. Still kissing, but our mouths become sloppy and misplaced as we struggle with pulling off our shirts, while still rubbing against each other. He's _great_ at multi-tasking, though.  
  
Shirtless, our hands travel over each other's skin, running, scratching, stroking, clasping - over and over as we both grunt and moan into the kiss.   
  
I break away to bite his neck, sharp enough for him to feel it. He arches and his hands slide to my hair, at my neck, and pulls roughly - and _ohhh GOD_ , it's good.   
  
I bite and suck at his neck, below his ear. I want to leave him something, I want him to wear it at work, have everyone know what it is and yet be too afraid to ask. I want him to see it in the morning and know how much he wanted this, right now, to face how much he wanted _me_.  
  
But with all the grabbing and biting and humping, I know he's going to come soon. His breathing is ragged and short, his body is tensing and writhing. I can feel his body preparing itself, building up his climax, ready to come in his pants.  
  
With missteps and awkward communication with just using my hands and lips, I move us to the floor. Kissing him again, my lips buzzing and raw.  
  
I pull back and whisper heavily into his ear, "You want me to fuck you?"  
  
He doesn't even say anything, he just starts taking off my pants, so I concede. We trip over our clothes and over eachother's limbs before we're fully naked and both wanting, _wanting everything._  
  
"Let me get the lube," I tell him and hurry before I lose my nerve. I scramble to find what I need and rush back before he can lose _his_ nerve.   
  
I can barely feel my hands as I kiss his face and pull the condom onto myself, feeling the familiar tightness, but...this is _different_. Being here is different, but I push that thought back as my hands shake opening the lube.   
  
I can't look at him or else I'll lose it, I'll back out. So I close my eyes and suck on his tongue.   
  
My finger isn't exactly welcomed, but he relaxes himself without effort. He's tight, but it'll be easy; it'll be easy to just fuck him...  
  
After I finger-fuck him with two fingers, I slide lube against my cock. I settle in between is legs, kissing his neck, lifting his legs easily, feeling my way to his body.  
  
Before I can pull back, I push in. Before I can walk away, I push forward. I push, and that's all. I'm settled into Heero, I'm _inside_ Heero.   
  
He sucks in a breath below me, not in pain or pleasure, but just feeling. The weight and fullness of my cock, stretching him open and he _experiences_ it, letting it be engulfed by his body. He gets familiar with it and then moves himself against me, wanting it deeper, so I push in all the way.   
  
Again, all I hear and feel is his breath, just greeting it and tasting it.   
  
I slowly pull back and thrust into him again, and he grunts.  
  
I do it again, and again and suddenly I realize that we're fucking. I'm _fucking_ him, digging into him, and he's rocking against me.

I can hear his low, harsh breath scraping against my ear and I'm against his, breathing into it, moaning into it. The only other noise I can hear is the wet smack as my thighs meet his ass. Pushing and pulling, Heero and I, on the floor of his apartment. I double my efforts as I can feel him tense. I bite up his neck. It doesn't last long.  
  
His hands grip onto my shoulders, painfully, as he gasps out and clenches, coming as I fuck him.   
  
While his body twitches and tightens, I pound into him, reminding myself, over and over, ' _This is Heero. You're in Heero's ass. He wanted this_. _He wants you._ He wants you.'   
  
And it's too much. I meet my climax head-on, hushed, as I open my eyes and see him lying below me.   
  
I come, gritting my teeth and feel the pleasure flow and quake through my body. I collapse as I'm still jerking and gasping. I tumble onto him, still inside him.  
  
After the exhilaration cools and fades, sanity comes back...  
  
With regret tagging along.  
  
As I lie here on top of him, feeling his hands silently resting on my naked skin, not moving, just holding, I can't even believe what just happened and how much I wish it hadn't.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::munches casually on popcorn:: oh noooooooo


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero POV

"Um," I hear him say, feel his body stiffen.  
  
Duo slowly pulls out of me and sits up. He doesn't look me in the face, just below it, like he thinks that I can't tell the difference.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower, so..."  
  
I don't know if he's nervous or scared or just unsettled. It's the way he moves away from me, the way that his hands pull back from me, all this confusion he's showing through his body language that I don't understand.  
  
Does he imagine that I think less of him now? Is he worried that I'm going to want a romantic commitment from him? Does he think that I'm going to use this against him? Does he want a relationship, but just afraid of rejection?  
  
I don't understand.  
  
"Do you want me to-" I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.  
  
"No, it's okay," he laughs and stands up, but turns his body, as if he's shying away his naked body from me. But we've just...we just had sex, and I've seen him naked before, too. During the war, we had showers together after gym. So, why would he be self-conscious _now_?  
  
I watch him walk away, hear him step into the shower, but still wonder about it...  
  
Have things truly changed between us? I don't feel any differently, really. I thought it would feel different. Most men act like something special happens after losing your virginity, but maybe that's only with heterosexual relationships because I really don't feel differently. I feel the same way towards Duo, too. Life is the same as usual and it seems silly now to think that it would have changed in any major way...  
  
Or maybe that didn't count as sex...I don't know.   
  
I stand up and my legs feel slightly weak, there's slight pain, but that's all.  
  
Maybe Duo thinks the dynamic between us has changed. Maybe that I'll only look at him as a sexual object or will pressure him into having a more constant sexual relationship or a more emotional one...That seemed to be the problem before when he kissed me, so it makes sense. He doesn't want to be emotionally connect as a lover to me, just a sexual one, if that. Although it was probably a 'one-night-stand' like he's mentioned having before.  
  
I decide to confront him because we should really discuss this before we ignore it, like he attempts to do sometimes.  
  
I open the door to the bathroom and hear him splash inside the tub.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What the hell are you doing in here?" he huffs, "Can't I have some privacy for a while?"  
  
"No," I reply, and lean against the sink, facing the shower, "We should talk."  
  
"I don't feel like talking now," he says frankly.  
  
"I don't care, we need to."  
  
This pisses him off because he snaps back the shower curtain enough to show his angered face, but not his whole body.   
  
"You can't come in here, _telling_ me what to do. Fuck you! I'm not playing that kind of game," he spits, "Give me ten minutes and I'll get out of here if you want."  
  
I shake my head, "You don't get it. I don't want you to leave. I want to talk to you."  
  
"Oh, _wow_ ," Duo exclaims, sarcastically, "I should be _honored_. You finally want to talk to me. After all the times I just wanted to hang out and talk, you've finally stepped up. Well, _too late_ , Heero. I don't want to talk to you right now, so you'll just have to deal."  
  
"Why are you angry at me?" I ask honestly because this is starting to sting, "Because I had sex with you?"  
  
"I'm angry because..." he trails off, shaking his head.  
  
"You don't even know," I challenge him, "Why did you do it?"  
  
His anger slips back onto his face and he roughly pulls the curtain back, hiding him, "Give me just five fucking minutes and I'll be out of your life, okay?"  
  
I'm not playing this now. I'm not letting him have his way.  
  
I pull back the curtain and quickly step into the hot spray.  
  
"What the hell-" he starts to shout before I pin him against the wall.  
  
After a moment of disbelief, he rages against me, flailing and kicking. He screams and lands a few good kicks. Probably neighbors are calling the cops, but I keep my hold and wait for him to calm down.  
  
When he doesn't, I tell him fiercely, "Get a _god damn_ hold of yourself!"  
  
Panting, he stops, looking surprised because he's never heard me swear much before and I can count on one hand how many times I have slipped.   
  
"I'm going to go into the living room and in five minutes, you're going to come out into the living room, too. You're going to sit down and we're going to _talk about this_. You're going to be honest and not play these stupid games you play. So, you had better think of what you're going to say and you had better think quick because you only have a few minutes."  
  
I pull back, let him go, and step out of the shower. I pull on a robe and leave. I'll give him five and that's all, but I'm serious. I expect for a neighbor or a cop to come pounding on my door, but no one shows up...  
  
The minutes seem to pass more slowly than I'm used to. I watch the clock, every second, I watch it.  
  
He _does_ come on time, but he's still angry, although it's quietly subdued.  
  
We sit and glare at each other for a few minutes before he breaks the silence.  
  
"I didn't mean to."  
  
"What didn't you mean?"  
  
"To have sex with you."  
  
I blink a few times at its absurdity, processing it.  
  
"It was an _accident_?" I ask.  
  
"I guess," he murmurs, breaking the contact and looks down, suddenly ashamed.  
  
" _No_ ," I say without thinking, with more conviction than I would have usually given, " _No_ , you can't have sex on accident."  
  
Defiantly, he glares at me again, "Sure you can. One thing leads to another, you don't mean for it to happen. You're kissing and then suddenly you're naked and you just keep going...It's happened before."  
  
"To _you_? It's happened to _you_ before? Accidentally having sex?" I don't believe it. You can trip on accident, you can knock over something, you can bump into someone, you can get in a car wreck, but you cannot have sex on _accident_. It's premeditated. It's wanted.   
  
"Yeah, to me," he replies, narrowing his eyes.  
  
I don't even know what to say. I can't even accept what he's trying to say. I can't believe the crap he's trying to sell me.  
  
"Whatever you say, Duo," I finally acknowledge it, but still don't buy it, "Fine, to you it was an accident. But it wasn't to me. I had thought about it before, but never assumed anything."

He's silent, so I push on, "I'll tell why _I_ did, though. Because I wanted to. I didn't manipulate it, but I had thought about it and wanted it. I knew that the possibility was low, but I decided yesterday that if the opportunity arose that I would do it and not regret it."

He's still not saying a word, just shaking his head. Just furious. For the first time, just not saying a thing.  
  
I grit my teeth before releasing the strain and breaking the silence again,"I just thought that you wouldn't regret it either, but I was wrong. So, what happens _now_ , we need to decide. Are you still going to stay here? Are you going to leave? If you stay, things will be awkward. You possibly could be thinking if you stay, then it looks like a relationship, perhaps you're worried that it may happen again. If you leave, then it looks like you're a coward or that maybe you came here just to try to have sex with me-"  
  
"Right," he cuts in, and I knew it would happen eventually, "Like I would do that. How _petty_ do you think I am?"  
  
"I don't know," I reply, "I've never had sex with you before. I've never had sex with anyone before, so I'm just going through all possibilities."  
  
He pales suddenly, and holds his shaking forehead with his hand.  
  
"I didn't know," he whispers, "I'm sorry."  
  
I didn't expect that abrupt turn-around of emotions.  
  
"What are you sorry about?"   
  
"I...I didn't know that you...didn't before. I'm sorry."  
  
I still don't get it.  
  
"Why are you sorry?"  
  
"Because I would have," he tries to express whatever he's feeling, stumbling, "Because it shouldn't have been me, then. I would have stopped it."  
  
" _Why_?" I ask again, incredulously.  
  
"Because you deserve better than a quick fuck like that. I feel like...like I've led you on," he confesses, "And I didn't come here for that. I just wanted to be friends...Better friends. Not fuck-buddies, not friends with benefits, just good buddies that can watch a movie and hang out. Maybe not what we were during the war, but not who we became after it. It's like we were even worse than strangers because we had been around each other for so long and we still weren't connected. After everything, we just didn't...click. And I find friends and they click with me, but they don't have...what we had."  
  
He keeps going before I can respond,"And maybe I envied you, or was attracted to you in the past, whatever, above all I liked you. I still do. I like how honest you are and how you're reliable and I've missed that. And I feel like such a bastard for coming here and...for changing us. So, I don't know if I led you on or incited curiosity or whatever, but I shouldn't have slept with you. I had no right to."  
  
"Are you done?" I ask when he pauses.  
  
He nods and sighs, all anger seemingly gone.  
  
"I told you that I had thought about it before it happened," I explain, frustrated with these miscommunications, "So, whatever guilt you feel is your own making. I was prepared and feel no remorse and certainly don't feel betrayed. I'm disappointed that you feel like it was an accident and cannot look back on it the same way I can.   
  
"What you said about changing, the fact is that people change. I am more distant from the rest of the pilots than I was before, including you. I don't see you as consistently as I did before, nor is the emphasis to become a unit or comrades as vital as it once was. That doesn't mean that I don't enjoy your company, it just means that it's changed, the way I view you has changed. I don't see you as an asset of survival and more importantly, the mission, I see you as an asset of my life. I think, 'What can he bring into my life that I want or need?' I understand that many other people don't have the same way of thinking as I do, but I was raised and trained with this thinking and it's become part of myself.   
  
"I don't carry what I feel is useless, as many people would. When I don't feel like talking to someone, I don't; I feel no obligation to. When I don't feel a person fits into my life, I cut them out...When I don't think that a person needs me as much as they used to...I give them space, I let them go.   
  
"When it comes down to it, Duo, to try to be what we were during the war is futile. It won't happen. We're not in the same situations as we were before. We're not under the same pressures. You should stop thinking that there's any way that we can live like that again. The war is over, you had better adapt to that. Out of everyone, I had least worry for you to be able to adapt to whatever was to happen after the war. I see now that I was wrong and you're having difficulties. I can't make your life for you and I can't carry you through it.  
  
"However, I have not cut you from my life, so you can safely assume that I see your merit in my life still. I can't help you mold your life, but I can give you advice if you want and stay in contact with you. You can stay here longer if you want, but I doubt that we will be closer than we are now. Where you see us as distant, I see us as friends, good friends, friends that can literally say that we've bled together and faced death together...maybe I was wrong...but to me, that means something."  
  
What he offers me is a long, slow silence that is unsettling and somehow sad.  
  
"I think that's the most I've ever heard you say," he quietly jokes without smiling.  
  
"I'm going to bed, it's late and I have work early," I say, standing up, "You can sleep out here, you can leave, or you can...come to bed with me."  
  
He nods, but doesn't move.  
  
I slip under the covers, still naked. I check the alarm clock and wait...  
  
After an I hour, I turn over and try to get some sleep when I hear the front door open and then close, softly and solidly...  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero collects some information...including his own thoughts.

When I get up, I see that his things are gone.

I look for a note or something, but everything is the same as it was before he stayed over. There's no message explaining anything, there's no parting word, nothing. Just gone and it's quiet. That silence must have always been here, but it never seemed as emphasized as it is now.

I get ready for work, but I'm slower by eleven minutes, so I'm just barely on time for work, hitting rush-hour.

The whole time I assure myself that it's his fault and his own life, but I'm disappointed in myself. Maybe if I just had one more day...maybe we could have figured something out. Found out our dynamic or something. Maybe I said the wrong things.

Only now do I feel small stings of regret. He left because we had sex, because I gave in. I'm _not_ sorry that I did, I enjoyed myself, but if it costs us our relationship, then it just _wasn't_ worth it. It's just that...I didn't think that it would have been something so deep or intimate. I thought we'd be the same afterwards, but apparently not and I'm glad that I've found that out early. Things change after sex, you can't go back to who you were...at least not in our case.

Is sex _that_ big of a deal? If it was, then why didn't he stop it? Why didn't he just explain it? Or did he think that things would be the same, too...  
  
"Uh, Agent Yuy?" I hear behind me. It's the guy that told me about the movie.  
  
"What's wrong?" I ask, pushing back my thoughts.  
  
"Well, nothing," he pauses and smiles, "I just wanted to know how your date went."  
  
"Date?" I'm surprised and I can hear it in my voice. I never told him that. I never implied anything. I just asked him about movies.  
  
"Oh," he exclaims, embarrassed, "I thought it was a date. I'm sorry."  
  
He turns to leave, but I ask him, "How did you...?"  
  
Nelson laughs and runs a hand through his hair, "Well, sir, you're hard to read, but I guess it just felt like that…or whatever."  
  
"Felt like?" I don't understand.  
  
"Yeah, you just looked," he hesitates before continuing, "Don't take this the wrong way, but...you looked…less…um, well, I guess happier? You just seemed more interested…Never mind. Sorry.”  
  
"Oh," I reply, not knowing what to say. I don't think 'thank you' is even appropriate, but it makes me feel something I can't describe. Something like warmth or relief. “Yes.”  
  
"So," he grins, "How did it go?"  
  
"Not the greatest."  
  
His smile fades, "Oh...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything..."  
  
I shrug, "Maybe it's for the best that it didn't work out."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to leave you alone?" he asks and I realize that this is the most I've ever talked with him. It's almost sad, he's a good person, but only now do I notice him. I think his name is Neilson…Nelson?  
  
"Not much to tell," I say honestly, "We rushed things and then he left."  
  
"Oh…Oh!...I see," he exclaims and fumbles through the shock.  
  
"Let's go to work," I say after a minute, remembering that he's not my friend, he's my _employee_. He's only my subordinate. I feel foolish to have opened up so-  
  
"Give him some space," he says suddenly, "He just may need some time to sort things out. If you rushed things, he may be feeling trapped or pressured. So, don't give up yet."  
  
It's almost comforting.

***

After that, I threw myself into work because it was better than being at home. In fact, some days I slept in my car for a few hours before going back in. I didn’t have any issues with it, but apparently it was a problem

“Heero,” Relena says, very softly one day, “Can we talk about something?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve had…” She stops, and starts again, “Has something changed? Lately you’ve been here more. Been more…focused. Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly because it is all right. It’s good to be focused.

“Heero,” she says even softer, averting her eyes, “Maybe…maybe you should take some time off.”

It stings and I don’t know why. I can’t tell if it’s a blow to my ego, or just because I’ve had two hours of sleep for the last five days. It fits in me somehow like rejection.

“Yes, acknowledged,” I say, resisting the urge to shrug. It’s her schedule, her job. Besides, I never would fully leave. I’ll always have eyes on her.

“No, Heero,” she says, “I….I wish you would talk to me. You can….But if you can’t, please, for me, talk to one of the others?”

“About?”

I don’t often see frustration on her face, not directed at me. “I don’t know, Heero, but I know you’ve…been sleeping in your car. I know that you sometimes are wearing the same clothes. I don’t know what happened, but I can tell something did.”

I didn’t realize that I was obvious. I honestly didn’t see it as an issue.

“Understood,” I tell her, because I do. I need to talk to someone and I know who. I know exactly who.

She seems to think I’m upset, though. “Just, I’m doing this as a friend, Heero.”

It’s strange. I suddenly wonder if I have misjudged things all this time. I wonder if she, too, is attracted to me, if that was something she’s mused about. It’s a short slide from friends into this unknown territory and I suddenly realize how inexperienced I am in this. I never saw Relena that way, but I didn’t see Duo either.

I wonder if I’m the only one who doesn’t see these things. If there were always signs that were just out of my peripheral.

It makes me feel naïve, and that’s a feeling I haven’t felt for a very, very long time.

I feel alone, on the outside of all these affections that I’ve possibly been moving around, unaware of their existence.

I don’t know how to respond to her, so I just nod. I do notice her hand, touching my shoulder, as she smiles before we continue to plan her conference trip to L3.

**

I call three times, but don’t leave a message. The forth time, in the evening, I see Quatre’s face on the vidscreen.

“I thought it might be you,” he says, smiling, “An unlisted number that knows my person number? Had to be. What do you need?”

“How do you know I need something?”

His smile deepens. “You’re not the one for social calls, are you, Heero?”

Fair enough. “I need information.”

His eyebrows twitch up slightly. “Oh, fun. I was started to get bored of the boardroom. Pun intended. Who or what is the target?”

I don’t mean to take a deeper breath, but I unconsciously do. “Duo…and you.”

The eyebrows knit together, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Okay. Unique assignment. What information is needed?”

This seems harder than it should be. “The time you spent together during the war.”

That’s when he breaks the questioning and his smile falls into seriousness. “Heero, what’s this about?”

“When, how, and why were you together?...Besides the mission objectives.”

His expression becomes pensive before he smiles only very slightly. “Oh…he told you about that.”

“Yes.”

Instead of embarrassment or anger, or anything I thought he’d express, he smiles more. “Yes, we had a moment, once, when we were younger. But…I’m more curious of why and how this was all brought up?”

I decide not to tiptoe anymore. Obviously Quatre isn’t and I don’t know why I should in the first place. Obviously he wants information for information. Fair trade.

“We had sex, now he’s gone.”

That definitely gets a reaction. His mouth does open and close twice before he slowly nods. “Oh…okay…Um, so…how can I help?”

“You ‘had a moment’ with him before. What was his reaction then? I was told to give him space, but I’m not sure for how long.”

Quatre sighs and leans back in his chair. “Heero, I’ll be honest. Duo and I shared a kiss. Once. And that was it. We were young and our spirits were high, it was a beautiful night, and it just happened.”

I’ve been hearing that these things just happen a lot.

“But it wasn’t some grand romance or anything like that. We were just in the moment. Duo didn’t run from me because there was nothing to run _from_. Do you understand?”

“No,” I say because I really don’t and that makes him chuckle for some reason.

“Duo usually leaves when things get difficult, emotionally I mean. He comes and goes in all of our lives. When he begins to get attached, he leaves. Can you understand why?”

“…He’s afraid of losing the person…?” I am trying to piece this puzzle and feel like I’m back in training.

“Yes, but he’s more afraid of being _rejected_ I would wager. He leaves before _you_ can.”

“But I wasn’t leaving,” I interject, “I invited him…to stay.”

Quatre’s eyes soften. “Oh…Heero. That’s…Huh.”

“What?”

“Well…I guess that’s just surprising because you cherish your solitude. That must mean that he’s…pretty close to you. And maybe it wasn’t just for sex? Maybe there’s something more than sex?”

“He’s my friend,” I say and don’t add the ‘I suppose’ that I feel inclined to say.

“Yeah, but there’s boundaries in friendship. I consider you a friend, but, sorry, I don’t think I’d want to have sex with you. Does that make sense? There are social rules and etiquettes to friendship. Sex is usually not included because it’s a very intimate act.”

The gears finally turn and I appreciate Quatre’s patience.

“He’s interested in me as more than a friend,” I conclude.

“It appears so.”

The gears keep moving. “And…because I wanted him to stay…I reciprocate that.”

Quatre laughs and it sounds gentle. “Seems like, huh?”

I think for another moment. “Should I be upset with you? For kissing him?”

That gives him a full laugh although I didn’t really mean to be funny. I just need to know what the expectations are here. 

After wiping his eyes joyfully, he adds, “Thank you, Heero, you have no idea how much I needed that. I would say to go easy on me since we were just kids and in the middle of a war. But maybe let me off with a warning.”

“Oh,” I say, but feel the mirth between us, “Consider this your warning.”

His eyes glitter as he leans and smirks, “Got it.”  
  
***  
  
I relax on the couch, sitting in the middle of the stillness of the apartment.  
  
I'll get used to it again...  
  
Absently, I stare at the picture that he left. The skeletal grins hanging on the skulls as they dance around children...the children don't even look that scared, as if they're prepared. They're ready to let go, hand-in-hand with the skeletons, skipping to whatever fate they're meant to meet.  
  
I burn the image in my mind as I study it. I hear his voice from memory.  
  
 _I’ll come back for it and you’re just holding it for me._  
  
And for some reason...I believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo POV
> 
> The end...(rewrite from the original)

Seven months later, he doesn't expect to open the door and find me. He pauses a few, slow seconds.  
  
"Chinese delivery," I say, gesturing to the food delivery I intercepted. "You want it, or is it too late?"  
  
"Duo," he replies, his confusion clouds his eyes.  
  
"Yeah...I gotta make a flashy entrance," I laugh, but it's watery, "That's always been my style."  
  
"You came back," he states the obvious and to bring Heero to this level of surprise, I feel even guiltier.  
  
"Yeah," I drop the grin, the facade, the bag of food, everything, and gingerly lean in. He doesn't pull back or tilt forward, but he lets me kiss him softly.  
  
"I'm ready to talk about this," I tell him, "It just took me a while, but...I'm here now, right?"  
  
He doesn't look angry, or happy, or sad, or really anything but the slight surprise hanging on his partly opened lips and crinkled eyebrows. I barely touch him, my fingers on his arm, and I smile for him.

“You better come in,” is all he says and moves to the side.

His living room, his small kitchenette, his furniture – it’s all the same. Nothing’s changed.

But I see the poster. It’s still up. I kind of forgot about it, to be honest. Apparently, he didn’t. Apparently, he’s seen it every day that I’ve been gone.

That makes me sadly hopeful.  
  
"I don't know if I can hook up with you," I tell him honestly, not looking back at him as he locks the door, "but I'm ready to just talk about us. You and me, and us...Right here and now, not what we were, but maybe where we could go. Yeah?"  
  
"Okay," he slowly says, just watching me, waiting.

“Uh, yeah,” I say with less confidence. “I- Um, so, where do you stand on this thing? This, you know, whole thing?”

“If you’re asking if I care about you,” he says evenly, “I wouldn’t have waited if I didn’t.”

“Okay, like, waiting for me to come back or, waiting to go out with someone, or…" Sighing, I gesture to...I don't know, _everything_. "This is so stupid that this is so hard.”

“You’re the one who returned,” he states, “Didn’t you have a plan?”

He’s got me there. Yeah, I did. It was a vague happily-ever-after type. We’d eat dinner, maybe have sex, maybe hash out some things. But now that I can see him, smell him, touch him, it’s all gone to hell. I want to be here, I really do, but I don’t know how. I don't know how to be here.

I laugh. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t always work, right?”

“I want you to stay…if you want to stay,” he says, so fucking easily.

“For how long?”

“As long as you want. And when you want to leave, you can leave.”

I almost want to cry at that. He’s giving me all the leverage. He’s giving me every out. “That doesn’t seem really fair to you.”

He pauses, musing for a moment. “Life usually hasn’t been. I’ve accepted that. Can you accept my terms?”

Something changed. He's not as angry as before. I can feel the effort he's putting in, hard against my chest. It hurts, but I chuckle, “What? That I can fuck you and then take off whenever I feel?”

“But you’ll come back,” he replies, so resolutely. Not a doubt in his mind. Between the two of us, he's the one who trusts me to return, to stay. To accept that I want him, and that I want to be here with him. Where did that trust come from, or is it just what he wants, too. 

Smiling until it stings, I tell him, “I don’t think that’s how relationships work.”

He’s the one to cross the distance to me, slowly and purposefully, before leaning in and quietly saying, “It can be how _this one_ works.”

I laugh and it hurts. I can feel his body heat, and I touch him after so long. And it hurts. And we kiss and it hurts, but it’s exactly what I need. He lets me hold him, breathe him in, lean my head against his neck. He lets me fumble, lets me fuck up. And then his hands hold my face and draw me closer.

It all wonderfully hurts.

And I let it.

***

When he undresses me, he's slow, methodical. He watches me, my reactions and my eyes. He's making a lot of eye contact, which is rare, too rare. I'm the one who sometimes looks away, but his hands never leave me. They hold me steady, they keep me close. His fingers explore my skin and it's intense, too intense. I try to kiss him roughly, but it's no problem for him to hold me, gently, back.

He undresses himself, but doesn't take his eyes off of me. He allows me to touch the toned muscles of his arms and shoulders, his thighs - stops me at his groin. He's already half-hard and it makes me frustrated. He's taking control, skillfully wrestling it from me.

I joke, "Hey, this is fun and all, but let's get to it?"

"We are," is all he says, before moving his hands to my chest, splaying them out, softly moving, quiet against my skin. It's agonizing. I'm about to protest again when his hand tightly grabs my chin, forces eye-to-eye contact.

"I want to taste you," he murmurs and I can feel a flush of heat and hardness from his intensity. "I've been thinking about it."

"Like...? Like you want to go-" I'm stopped halfway as he lets go of my face to squeeze my dick tightly. _Jeeesus._

"Here," he answers. _Oh my god_...He doesn't have to even talk dirty to make me want him so much.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble, "uh, go for it."

And he does, without a moment of hesitation, his mouth just sucks me in. My head goes back on his own, and I can't help but react to that. To Heero's mouth and breath pulling me in deeper. To his hands grabbing my hips and holding me down. I gasp out and groan and want more and faster and harder. But he's deep and slow and wet and hot. When I can feel his rough fingers close around my stiff cock, I can feel that force of pleasure building. It's not going to take long. Not with him so lightly humming around my dick.

But when I'm close, he pulls back, wipes his mouth.

I'm beside myself. I'm so frustrated and panicked and just wanting to cum in his mouth. "Wha? Why? Why did you-"

"Do you want to be in me?" He asks, straight-forward, pupils dilated, breathing heavier than normal.

Dumbfounded, I sputter, "Yeah, yes, sure. Whatever you want. Yes! Jesus!"

Swiftly, he leaves the room, and I'm lying in his bed, hard as a fucking rock, taking a deep breath. Thankfully he's quick coming back, seems prepared, doesn't even pause from sucking me back off, getting me hard again. I watch in amazement as he fingers himself while sucking me and obviously he's used these past months learning new things. I start getting close again and he can feel it.

Pulling back, he hungrily looks down my body, eyes raking over my flushed face and neck. I should be so lucky that Heero Yuy finds me hot shit.

He kisses me unexpectedly, his tongue is less patient as he's getting more hot, more horny. This is my pace. This is what I want.

I'm the one pushing him back to tell him, "Ride me and fuck me into the bed."

I wouldn't have been surprised if he said something Heero-like or dorky, like "affirmative", but he just smirks and it's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my fast and rough life.

And he does. He easily straddles me, takes my cock and guides it into him. It's been too long, too fucking long since I've felt this good. I try to be patient and let him adjust, let him roll his hips to stretch himself wider, but I grab his hips in a death grip. He lets me pound into him, grunting as I pushing into him, over and over.

Eventually, though, he does what I originally asked, what I wanted.

His arms push me down and I'm sinking into the mattress as he fucks me, bucking his body against me, sinking my cock in deeper. His hand is tight and unyielding against my chest, right under my throat, driving me into his bed. It's hard to move, hard to breathe, as he continues to thrust my dick into him, down to my balls, all the way inside him.

He wraps his other hand around his cock, stroking himself off in a frenzy, when he's close. Then suddenly I feel him tighten and constrict around me, see him in a haze of sharp ecstasy, cumming with a shudder on my chest.

He takes only a moment to compose himself and continue fucking me without breaking the pace.

It doesn't take long for me.

The orgasm jolts inside every artery, shaking throughout my body. I can feel myself being milked inside him, and I'm still struggling for breath as he's still pinning me down.

We both take a few moments of silence to lay next to each other, catching our breath. I wonder the possibility of a round two...

"Are you going to leave now?" He asks, breathing normal, seemingly unfazed, but there's a small shadow of vulnerability. I can feel it, but I don't know if I can face it yet.

I'm still thick and hot in the afterglow, searching for an answer, searching for my feelings.

"No," I say after a minute, "No, if it's cool with you...I think I'll stay."

"Okay," he says, shifting towards me.

"Oh, and..." He pauses, hesitates, before continuing, "...don't kiss Quatre again."

It feels good to laugh again after holding it in for so long. It feels really good.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. That was fun. Let's do it again sometime, yeah?


End file.
